


Wth.You

by Aeacus



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Blow Jobs, Captain John Egbert, Chance Meetings, Director Dave Strider, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:32:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeacus/pseuds/Aeacus
Summary: As a pilot, John travels into and out of cities on a breeze. He didn't know that he was looking for something until someone slipped into the seat next to him.





	Wth.You

He slides into the seat and catches the attention of the bartender before taking off his hat and setting it on the counter. He runs his fingers through his hair a couple times to loosen it back up. He sighs gratefully as the bartender drops off his usual glass of whiskey. He picks it up and swirls it around the single ball of ice, enjoying the amber tones before taking a sip. Nothing like a good drink at the end of the day. 

He tunes out the rest of the noise and listens to the automated piano that draws travelers into this little nook of the airport. It's not very populated as it's too late for most people to stop by. In fact it's late enough that every other shop along the terminal has already packed up and closed down. Probably hours ago. But this one bar is sufficient for the serious late night travelers who don't have a home to scurry off to. Or in some cases, those who don't want to go home just quite yet.

Someone slips onto the stool immediately next to him and John finds himself glancing over. Smooth, blond hair extends down into sideburns that follow and highlight a sharp, angular jawline. That natural line contrasts with the roundness of a pair of aviator sunglasses and a pair of soft pouty lips. The newcomer orders a red wine without specifying the varietal. John intercepts the request before Aradia can roll her eyes at him.

“I recommend the barbera.”

“Oh?” He glances down at the menu in front of him to read the description. “Yeah, yeah that one sounds pretty good. Even though I’m in California half the time nowadays, I still haven't made it up to the vineyards, so I really don't have much of a clue what wine is besides alcoholic grape juice. Now if they made an alcoholic apple juice, I'd be on that like a fly on a fresh hot turd of the finest manure from a shit cow.”

“How very appetizing,” John scrunches up his nose a little at the description. “But you know there is such a thing, right? Hard cider.”

“Oh shit, really? Hey, do you have some here? Can I change my order?” he asks Aradia just as she sets the glass of wine in front of him. John snickers at the flicker of murder in her eyes. 

“Of course, sir.” She whisks the wine away and finds a bottle of hard cider instead. She pops off the cap. “Would you like a glass?”

“Nah, I can just drink from the bottle.”

“Yes sir. Can I get you anything else?”

“Hey captain, you wanna split any of the appetizers here before we head home? Actually, is this your home or just a hotel stay before you jet off to another fantastic location, though honestly it's hard to get better than Houston. But I might be a little biased towards home sweet home. Texans can get a little possessive and competitive over who has the best state, you know? How late do you even stay open here?” He suddenly turns the flood of conversation and questions to Aradia. “I've never seen any other place open this late, though I've only been to about... Four? No five airports ever, though I don't think I can really count Atlanta since I was sprinting as fast as I could to get from terminal A to terminal E in fifteen minutes. Beautifully organized place. Have you flown into that one, captain?” And the conversation circles back.

“I have as it's a main hub. It's a bit of a pain from the pilot’s seat but I can see the appeal.”

“I've been meaning to go back to Georgia because it's like a Southern Sister to Texas. Though the more refined one. Texas would be one of those pretty sharp-shooters that make the horses dance around barrels while whipping her crack, no wait, cracking her whip like she's just gonna snap that blue ribbon right off the wall. Georgia is more of a refined lady sitting on her porch that overlooks the rolling hills while sipping - oh so primly - at her mint julep that would knock the boots off of anyone else with how much whiskey is in it.”

“You’ve never been to Atlanta,” John says simply. “It's nothing like Gone with the Wind.”

“Oh really? Even better.” He takes a sip of the cider and pulls a face. “Oh shit,” John's expecting him to shove the drink away. “This is amazing. How have I never had this before? I mean, I know how, but still.” He takes another longer swig, popping the seal of air loudly. He should have taken the glass. 

John lets the silence sit for a beat, conflicted. He usually wants silence this late at night but he doesn't mind company when it's as interesting as this guy. He supposes he’s waiting to see if his new friend will start filling the silence on his own considering the way his mouth seems to run on. But even after his bottle rests against the counter for another long second, he doesn't continue.

“So California? I just came from there.”

“I know. I was on your plane, Captain John Egbert. Thank you for not crashing us nose first into the ground. And I love your commentary on the Mississippi River.”

“We didn’t fly over the Mississippi River...” John says confused. They stayed entirely to the west of that for this trip from SFO to HOU.

“Not this trip. But remember I just said I ran through Atlanta? You flew that plane too.”

“Oh, imagine that.”

“Actually, you fly a lot of the planes I happen to be on. Especially the California home trips. I started noticing because you like to talk to the passengers over the radio. So many people have complained about you. You know that announcements interrupt all of the shows and music that people are trying to watch on those shitty screens on the back of the seats, right? There are always a couple loud groans by the third time you cut in.”

“Well too bad, I’m the one not crashing you people nose first into the ground.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I groaned. I usually grin and throw pretzels at them.”

“Oh, my hero. Sir...”

“Strider. Dave Strider. I do what I can.” He sips his drink again.

“Dave Strider as in the director? Any relation?” John teases.

“No relation unless you count being him as a relationship. I mean, I'm told to go fuck myself all the time. So does masturbation count as a relationship?”

“No... But I've seen all of your works. They come on late night cable television.”

“Pft, of course they do.” He huffs a laugh and then looks at John with a side eye. “Even the Moivie-”

“The Moivie that Shan’t Be Seen. Even that one.”

“Impressive.”

“Yes you are. You're a genius.”

Dave blushes. “Well shit dude, just lay it on thick. Seriously, more praise. Please. Rotten Tomatoes is not enough. I live off of fan-based approval and fame, so the fact that my pilot likes all of my stuff is like amazing.”

“Hey now, I said I've seen all your movies. Not that I liked them.”

“Aw, why you gotta be like that? You just called me genius and then immediately crushed what little bloom of confidence was starting to bud in my chest. Now my self esteem is scattered to the four winds never to be seen again. I'll have to accept all of my awards from the side of the room as I've become nothing but a wilted stomped on wallflower. They'll mistake me as one of the staff and then, upon confirming that I'm not even in the room lest someone look down at me and my meager humble attempts at existing, will then give my award to second best like Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“If your ego really was that fragile, I think the tabloids would have shattered it years ago.”

“Oh you're talking about the Lalonde scandal. Eh, it was so never true in the first place that it was so easy to laugh away. She's practically my sister. We haven't done a genetic test on it only because we like the mystery that surrounds what loins we sprouted full grown out of.”

“You don't know your parents?” Dave's answer is to just roll the bottom of the bottle on the counter a little before taking another swig. “That's sad.”

“I made my own family. That's enough for me. I turned out pretty successful. Even if a little crooked. And sometimes crazy does equal genius. Case and point.” He points a thumb at his chest. “But enough about me, I already know all of my deep dark secrets, I'm more interested in you.”

“Why?” John blurts out.

“Would you buy that I'd love to have a pilot character in my next film?”

“I would have if you hadn't phrased it like that.” John frowns.

“Well... How about... You talk like an old friend of mine. Kinda. From another time. He was a comedian.”

“And I make jokes over the intercom,” he says dryly. Something is tickling in the back of his head.

“Plus, you're a man in uniform. That's hot.”

John splutters out a bit of his drink. “Wow, forward much? You don't even know if I'm-”

“I'm taking a chance.” Dave shrugs easily. “Do you believe in fate? Like the one that ties people together? Red string symbolism and all.”

John doesn't think this is a cheap question, despite how easily it was delivered, so he doesn't want to give a cheap answer. He sips his whiskey and Dave lets him think. He knows the concept of fate, but he's always felt like he's been separated from all that: above it, cut loose and drifting. He's always been drawn to the freedom of flying. But there is the coincidence of being Dave's pilot so many times. Dave probably wouldn't have sat down at a bar when he plainly doesn't drink and asked him that question if he didn't believe in the idea himself. 

“I wouldn't rule it out,” John says carefully. “Sometimes coincidence is just coincidence or an overlapping of patterns and routines but there could be something.”

“How agnostic of you.”

“Hey, you asked.” John finishes off his whiskey.

“I did. I'm also going to ask if you want a ride to your hotel. Least I can do in return for interrupting your evening.”

“Are you going to ask to see my hotel room?”

“What? No. I’d never invite myself in. That'd be rude. But are you offering?”

John bites his lip in thought for a moment. He might not have faith in fate but he's not one to shy away from chance. “Sure.” He slides his card across the bar and motions to Aradia that he'll cover both, all three drinks. She nods and starts the transaction.

“Holy shit. You serious? Not that I'm questioning this, god no, I'm just, I'm surprised. That was really easy is that how easy it normally is?”

“First time picking someone up at the bar?”

“Actually yes. I mean, I've been propositioned before but I've never been on this side of things.”

“Well you still have the whole walk to the parking lot and drive to the hotel to change your mind.”

“Likewise, but I don't think we will,” he says with a subtle smile. It makes John look at him again. There is something boyish in his expression that softens his handsome face. He slips off the stool and stretches, his t-shirt riding up a little under his blazer. The glint of the sunglasses on his face catches John's attention. John's somehow upset that the rims are silver instead of gold. Dave catches him staring as he finishes stretching and smirks. 

Now that he seemingly has his way, Dave's back to a very confident posture that John recognizes from TV, the small glimpses of the mysterious director at various award shows. John finds himself liking the change but at the same time preferring the slightly awkward Dave that fumbled through ordering a drink. He wonders how many other aspects he'll be able to see tonight. 

John signs the check and Dave leaves an additional cash tip on the counter. They both grab their roller bags and head out. The terminal is pretty long and very empty. Pretty much the only people left are part of the janitorial staff.

“So why is it that I am almost always having to walk from the farthest gate possible from anything? Is it something that pilots have against their passengers? And why don't we get to use more of the zippy carts that go by half empty or less?”

“You mean the disability shuttles? Probably because most people don't need them. And as for the gates, it's a lot easier to get in and out from the gates at the end. You don't have the same issues with cross traffic. Plus, I do it just to make you, you specifically, suffer.”

“I knew it!” Dave crows. John just shakes his head and laughs.

They finally reach baggage claim and ground transportation. Dave pulls out a slip of paper and leads the way towards the off-site parking. All the while Dave rambles on about this and that, inconsequential things that John occasionally responds too but otherwise happy to just listen to the soft cadence of his voice. It's an interesting blend between Texan Southern and California Valley Girl. John suspects that Dave would be insulted by the comparison but John honestly finds it charming. The only time Dave stops talking to him is to greet the bus driver, switching in and out of conversations like he did with Aradia at the bar. 

The ride is short and John is surprised when they pull up next to a Lexus and a Cadillac but it's the old Jeep Cherokee the flashes its lights when Dave does the remote unlock. It's obviously been maintained over the years but it's definitely a very early model. Dave helps John get his bag into the back of the Jeep after tipping the driver. 

“Are you really the famous Director-Strider?”

“Hey, just because I make loads of money doesn't mean I have to have the nicest toy on the block. Ol’ Jack here has done me right going on fifteen years.”

“Jack?”

“Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. He gets me from point A to point B. I'd show you the other car, the one I don't leave at the airport parking lot to get broken into, but I'm not vain enough to keep a picture of that one on my phone.”

John laughs and climbs in opposite Dave. “I'll pull up the hotel on GPS.”

“Which one is it? I probably know where it is off the top of my head.” John pulls it up anyways and answers Dave's question as Dave tucks his sunglasses into the console between them starts the car. Some chill beats come out of the speaker. “Oh yeah, that's actually pretty close to... Well anything downtown is close to my place. But yeah, that's a nice one. Glad you're not staying at a Motel Roach or something. I'd have to do something about that but then you'd still be charged for the room.”

“I like the music,” John complements, interrupting Dave's ramblings.  

“Oh? Thanks. I made it. I mean, I put it together. It's all samples but the mix is all me. I've been working on them for a while.”

“They make my brain feel happy.”

“That's the highest compliment.” They fall silent to listen to the music. Dave gets onto the highway, easily passing through the tolls. They get closer to the city where John can see the skyline casting light up onto the scattered clouds above. It's just getting to where John would consider it to be a downtown area when Dave pulls off. The surface streets are pretty bare at this time of night.

Sure enough Dave finds the hotel without any prompts from John. He pulls into the driveway up to the valet station. He handles the transaction with the same courtesy as he did with the others. John gets his bag out of the back of the car. He meets up with Dave and heads in towards the front desk. The pilot uniform gets attention immediately from the front desk attendant. He quickly looks up John's reservation.

“Uh... I'm sorry, sir, but it looks like it was made for just, uh, one king bed. I can see if I can, uh, change that for you, sir.”

“No need, Tavros. A king is fine.”

“Oh.” The mohawked boy looks up at John and then at Dave. He blushes. “Oh. Yes sir. Uh, I'll make two keys right, uh, away, sir.” He quickly taps in the room number and swipes two keys. “Thank you for, uh, being a valued member, uh, a platinum member. I see you've stayed here before, are you, uh, familiar with the, uh, amenities?”

“I am. Thank you.” At this point John could probably recite them better than poor Tavros here. 

“Well, uh, I hope you enjoy your stay here and, uh, hope to see you again soon.” He hands the little folder with the keys over to John.

“Thanks.” John turns towards the elevator with Dave a step behind. 

“Ooh, platinum member,” Dave echoes when the elevator doors close after them.

“That's what happens when I spend eighty percent of the time on the road. I'm a lifetime member.”

“That'd be impressive if it wasn't actually really sad. I mean, I'm probably not that much better going between Hollywood and here.” The doors open and John leads the way down the hall to the room.

“So why not just move to Hollywood?”

“And live with all of the crazies as my neighbors? No thanks. I like being paparazzi free. Or at least relatively free. They only pop up if things are slow on the drama front but I think there are at least three celebrity breakups going on right now. Something's in the water. Just another reason not to live out there. I'm sure all of the municipal water is dosed with Prozac and Vicodin.”

John gets the door open and they shuffle in with all of their stuff. There's a moment then of awkward silence before Dave laughs and steps up to John. He gives it another half second pause before he reaches a hand up to cup the back of John's neck and kisses him. 

John's hands instantly go to Dave's waist as he kisses him back. He hasn't kissed that many people and honestly Dave is his first man, but it feels a bit like coming home. Their bodies press together, their lips part a little. Dave knocks the cap off John's hair. John pushes the blazer off of his shoulders. Dave starts tugging on where John’s shirt off tucked in until John pushes him back and he falls against the bed. John quickly works to undo his tie and button down shirt, tossing them aside while Dave watches. As soon as he starts on his belt and pants, Dave hurries to join him, kicking off shoes and pants until they are both just left in boxers. 

John steps forward to kiss Dave again just as the blond scoots back farther onto the bed with a sly grin. John playfully glares at him as he climbs onto the bed, up over Dave until they are even. He leans down and captures Dave's mouth with a kiss. He shifts his weight so that he's not crushing Dave, but he has definitely trapped him against the bed. John rolls his hips against Dave's and finds both of them are hard through the thin fabrics. Dave moans hotly and arches upwards to get more friction. Dave’s hands slide along John’s back with a possessiveness that draws a noise from John’s throat. 

“You like that?” Dave asks, voice all husky and low.

“Yeah. Feels good. You feel good.” John shifts his weight to free up one arm. He runs his hand down Dave’s front into his boxers. It’s a foreign feeling to have someone else’s dick in his hand but the way that Dave gasps makes up for it.

“Oh fuck, John, yes. Fuck. I want more but I wasn’t really- Shit, this caught me off guard so like I’m not prepared but-”

“Prepared?”

“With stuff, you know, the sexy stuff that makes gay sex go.”

“Ah. Well, we’ll make do, won’t we?” He leans down to kiss Dave’s throat, smiling as he feels the moan under his lips. He keeps stroking Dave until the other decides it’s time for more. Dave tugs and pushes John’s boxes down first, taking advantage of when John pulls away to kick them all the way off to divest himself of his own. When John comes back it’s just skin on skin making them both moan. 

John braces his forearms over Dave’s shoulders as Dave wraps his hand around both of their cocks, pressing the undersides together. Dave strokes them to a gentle rhythm that John matches with his hips. John feels them fit together, work together better than he has with anyone else. Dave seems to be feeling the same, as his breathing gets heavier and his moans get louder. His pacing stays perfectly on tempo even as John slips up a little. He kisses Dave along his neck, sucking lightly and dragging his teeth along skin. Dave reacts so beautifully, getting worked up until he crests with a little gasp, arching stiffly up off the bed. John feels Dave’s cock pulse through his orgasm. It’s such a fantastic moment that John loses track of himself and just stops to watch. Dave looks gorgeous like this, head tossed back and eyes closed, an expression of ecstasy. 

He finally slumps back down against the bed panting with a smile. He opens his eyes and his smile gets even wider looking up at John. John can’t help but smile back. They stay that way for a bit while Dave gets his breath back. Then it finally occurs to him.

“Oh, did you...”

“No, not yet.”

“Oh, oh well that needs to be remedied.” Dave pushes on John’s shoulder until he rolls over. Dave quickly follows, settling only briefly on top before sliding down John’s body to his knees. He grins at John before leaning down to take John’s cock into his mouth. John is supremely glad for the momentary respite because otherwise Dave’s mouth would have felt too good and he would have come at once. But like this he gets to enjoy it, and enjoy it he does.

Dave’s enthusiasm is matched by his technique. Obviously this wasn’t his first time. He uses his tongue and lips to wet the whole length. He sucks gently and bobs to a nice rhythm. John’s surprised at how much Dave can take into his mouth and moans out his appreciation. He runs his fingers through the blond hair to keep up the encouragement. 

“Fuck, Dave, oh god, you feel so good,” he murmurs out. Dave is definitely receptive to the praise and steps up his work. From where John is looking down at him, he seems to definitely be enjoying himself too. “Yeah, yeah that’s it. Fuck. Shit you’re good at this. I’m, god I’m already close.” Dave doesn’t seem to heed the warning or at least he doesn’t want to pull off. John warns him one more time but Dave just sucks a little harder and that’s enough to tip John over the edge so that he’s coming with Dave’s name on his lips. Dave swallows everything he is given until it’s too much and John has to pull him off. He doesn’t let go of Dave’s hair, pulling him up to kiss him breathlessly through the tail end of his orgasm. 

John lets him go as his body finally relaxes. Dave doesn’t go far, he just settles down off to the side, lying shoulder to shoulder with John. They lie there for a little while as they catch their breath and let the moment soak in. John would have never predicted a night like this, but it’s nice. He’s glad he said yes. In fact, he’d like to say yes again.

“I’m gonna hit the shower,” Dave announces as he rolls off the bed. “Gotta wash off the travel grunge and well, other gunk.” 

John pushes up to his elbows to watch him walk to the shower. Naked he’s even more handsome, John appraises.

“Do you want to join me?”

“Sure.”

* * *

 

In the morning they are woken up by John’s alarm on his phone. They have to take a couple moments to untangle themselves and then they spend another long couple of moments tangling themselves back together for another round that results in another shower. It doesn’t leave them a lot of time for breakfast before John has to head to the airport again. Thankfully the hotel lobby is close and has decent food. By John’s standards. Dave’s complaining almost the whole time, only stopping when one of the staff is in ear shot. It doesn’t stop him from shoving a bagel with cream cheese into his mouth. John sticks to menu items with more protein, plus his necessary coffee. 

Dave is just as animated as last night and John is content to listen to him ramble. John’s mind wanders off a bit. He’s trying to figure out when he’ll be in Houston next. Maybe he’ll be able to request Houston more. Shit, that’s even if Dave would like to see him again. Maybe this was just a one time thing. But Dave must have felt that connection too right?

“Tower to Captain John, Tower to Captain John, is that how they say things? Are you still with me?” Dave waves a hand in front of his face.

“That isn’t at all how they say it. And sorry, still waking up.”

“I hope you wake up completely before you get on that plane. Now you’re making me kinda nervous. I don’t want some sleepy pilot taking me up in the air. It’s terrifying already any time I have put my faith into Uber drivers just to get me from point A to point B. Please don’t add to my anxiety of having to worry about pilots falling asleep at the wheel.” He actually looks genuinely upset, if only a little bit.

“Don’t worry, they always make sure that my copilots and I have enough caffeine to undo an elephant tranquilizer. You’ll be safe when I’m flying.”

“Oh good. Thank god.” He slumps down in his seat. 

There’s a lull in the conversation as neither of them have food on the table. Finally they break it, standing up and gathering up their luggage. Dave hands the valet tag over and they patiently wait for the car to pull up. The feeling is a little awkward between them as the end nears. Dave feels like he’s about to say something for a while but finally the jeep pulls up. 

The chill music is still great, filling in the gap between hotel and airport.

“Just dropping you off at departures?”

“Yeah that works.”

Why is it so stiff and awkward now? John hates this. Maybe it’s best to just put this behind them. What are the chances they’ll ever run into each other again anyways? If it happens, it happens, but if not, well then that’s that alright. Dave did mention fate. But what if it was just coincidence? He shouldn’t read too much into a random encounter.

John startles a little when he realizes they’ve stopped at the doors. “Uh, yeah, I guess this is me.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, Dave.”

“You’re welcome, Captain Egbert.”

“Now why didn’t you call me that in bed?” John smiles as he climbs out of the car without waiting for a response. He gets his bag out of the trunk and pulls it to the sidewalk. He ducks down and waves through the passenger window. Dave looks like he’s about to say something before just waving back. John heads inside as Dave drives off.

* * *

 

He slides into the seat and catches Aradia’s attention before taking off his hat and setting it on the counter. He runs his fingers through his hair a couple times to loosen it back up. He smiles as his usual glass of whiskey is placed onto the counter in front of him. Nothing like a good drink at the end of the day. 

He listens to the automated piano that fails to draw anyone in at this hour. But he’s sure Aradia doesn’t mind. Not this late at night. She’s already put most everything away. Just one more drink for a weary pilot who doesn’t want to scurry home just quite yet. Or to the hotel that passes for home for the night.

Someone slips onto the stool next to him and John finds himself glancing over. Smooth, blond hair extends down into sideburns that follow and highlight a sharp, angular jawline. That natural line contrasts with the roundness of a pair of aviator sunglasses and a pair of soft pouty lips. 

“What was it that you recommended? The Barbara?”

“Barbera.”

“Yeah, that. Hey Aradia, can I get a hard cider? And John, I have to get your phone number before you disappear again. Also, would you like to come over tonight, Captain Egbert?”


End file.
